The Adustum Academy
by white rabbit23
Summary: Another Cala story, but I do involve some very cool Gundam stuff. It's about Cala's mysterious and very cool past. Going thru a Cala craze. If u dunno who Cala is, read my other story: Trowa's Constellation. R+R! (new ch. up!)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing, which is basically where I got the idea to create my ORIGINAL characters from. I'm categorizing this under originals b/c basically it is, the next book actually concerns GW, this jst has a lot of stuff from it (and that's not really copying b/c well, it's in the same time… o forget it, I'm babbling) Enjoy!

He slowly flipped through the aging photograph album, pausing on certain pictures and sighing periodically. There were so many memories in the thick book. So many things that had happened during the war, things that he wished he could somehow relive. Those moments that he wished that he could have cherished one moment longer. If only…

If only…

Cemal sighed and shut the album, closing his eyes. Setting the heavy book aside, he picked up a framed photo of a girl with wide, dark blue eyes and a shoulder length of black hair standing candidly on a sunny sand dune. She wasn't posing, not expecting a camera from the photographer. Her gaze was directed off of the edge of the photo, her hair held aloft in a whirl of motion behind her, catching a desert breeze, and her hands clasped behind her back in a relaxed stance. The girl was quite young, about fifteen or so, but her expression was more serious than most adults' were.

He sighed again and traced the outline of the girl tenderly with his fingertip. It had been such a long time ago. There had been so many chances, so many possibilities, that he could have- should have taken. Now, it was too late.

He would have no more opportunities.

Frowning, he set the frame carefully back on the mantle and sat back on the couch by the fire. As the embers in the fireplace crackled and hissed, he shut his eyes and remembered that first day… that first time he had met her…

* **Author's Notes** *

hey!

This is my new story. Basically, if u haven't already figured it out, it's about Cala (I know, it sounds like I'm going a little overboard with her, but she's my original character and I have an attachment [sniffles]. I just can't let her go like that). so, yeah, it's about Cala and her past. This particular story is jst about Cala's past concerning Cemal (like how they met, etc.) and I get a lot into how great I think my character is. the next book that I'm working on is about after the… yeah, jst read the next chapter. Anyway, the next book is about Cala and how she meets the GW pilots… tell me if this is getting old and that I should stop, or if u think that it's really interesting and u wanna read more. So r+r!!

-w.r


	2. The First

Disclaimer: you know the deal, I don't own it, but all the original characters r mine.

Author's Note: ok, this is jst my little Cala obsession, but I'm coming up w/ some very kool GW stuff to add in here, so enjoy! (and please, please, please! Review)

Chapter 1

The First

****

On a secret space base, a little less than a decade ago…

The bright morning sunshine warmed his dark face and he beamed at the warmth. Of course, it was only artificial sunlight, but it still felt amazingly good against his face. The boring old assembly and reception welcoming new students and soldiers was finally over and he had helped some of them settle in and could finally take a break. Or at least tend to his assigned duties, like all the other older cadets. He paused in his lazy stroll down the cement sidewalk, as cars zoomed past. It was such a good day, in this first week of the brand new semester. Everything in his life was finally turning the right way.

He was top of his class, valedictorian in every major, and promoted to class senator cadet. These were excellent accomplishments. Competition for either of the positions was fierce, the scale could have tipped either way, but he had come out triumphant. In the private boy's military academy, competition was always harsh. Everything had to be fought out. And in the end he had prevailed.

Clutching the important papers that he was supposed to be delivering to the Commander tightly in his hand, he set off again. He did not want to loiter, messenger to the senior officers was also a sought after position and he did not want to lose it. And as he was only a newly inducted second year, aged thirteen, this was impressive. Most students were not allowed privileges such as he had until they were at least third year, aged fourteen. (And anything was better than those toilet scrubbing, potato peeling, and dish-washing duties that his fellow cadets were assigned were). He was told by certain reliable sources that he was considered, by the teachers, as a natural leader that would eventually become a lieutenant and command several younger students in a small platoon of foot soldiers, or if he was highly recommended by a high senior officer, mobile suit pilots.

And he was damned proud of it.

The Commander, head of the Academy, himself, had chosen him especially as a messenger. Actually, the Commander was just called 'the Commander'. He was really a full colonel. It was really a pretty impressive accomplishment, he'd been told. Rarely anyone made it past major status, but the Commander had done it at the mere age of 23 years old. He was now at the ripe old age of 29 and very close to being promoted to a lieutenant general. He had been appointed the position of governing and administrating the Academy only a few years before his promotion to colonel.

As he walked his usual brisk pace, he thought of how frightened had been when he had first come to the school. It was in the middle of uncharted space, specifically unknown coordinates so that only those who needed to know the location knew. Everything was top secret and it was scary. The security guards checked for metal devices, while entering the unnamed space colony. His father had had to force him to step onto the transport leaving Earth, coaxing, threatening him, and even bribing him the whole time. Cemal had not wanted to travel alone on a large, terrifying military transport.

He had been such a wimpy, little kid.

No wonder his father had wanted him to attend the Academy. It put a little backbone in him. He was thankful now. Exceeding thankful, onto grateful. In any case, he had risen up in ranks and the teachers were all very pleased with his improvement. He was now thinking of the desolate colony, in the middle of nowhere, with no civilians whatsoever, as home. Simple as that.

He finally reached the business building that the Commander's office was located in and stepped inside, the door swishing closed behind him. A rush of cool air engulfed him and he walked on, nodding politely to the busy secretary, who in glancing at him saw his uniform and went back to answering phones and typing frenziedly on a desktop computer. The click of his heels echoed in the empty corridors of the building. 

"Second floor, third door to the right," he muttered, pushing the door marked 'STAIRWAY' open and climbing up a story. He reached the door and knocked on it.

"Come in," growled a low voice inside and Cemal creaked open the door and stepped through it. There was a big, intimidating man, sitting at a desk with his brown-haired head bent over, inside. The artificial light from the outside of the building was filtered through darkly tinted glass windows. He had never actually met the Commander, face-to-face before, so was considerably nervous. He cleared his throat anxiously. The Commander did not look up.

"Um, sir? I was- uh- sent to- uh-" he stuttered inarticulately, not quite remembering what he was sent for. The Commander inclined his head a fraction of an inch, stared at him, then went back to doing paperwork.

"Well? Continue, boy. Finish what you were saying and speak up," the Commander said, his booming voice only muffled slightly. Cemal cleared his throat again.

"Oh, yes. Of course. My apologies, sir. I was sent to deliver you the papers that you sent for earlier this morning. They are from a junior officer of the department of admissions, Lieutenant-" the Commander cut him off abruptly.

"I know who sent them, boy. Give them here," he said impatiently. Cemal quickly hurried over to him and handed him the sheets. "Thanks," he replied taking the papers from Cemal and setting them on the desk, then returned to scribbling on the papers in front of him. Cemal waited a moment by the desk, to see if the commander was going to say anymore to him. But, apparently he wasn't going to say anything. Cemal sighed and turned to leave, knowing that he had blown his big chance to impress the Commander.

"Who told you that you could leave?" barked a voice behind him and he jumped. Turning back, he gulped. The head was still bent, but the voice was definitely from the Commander.

"No one, sir. I just thought-"

"You don't think, unless you are given orders to think. I did _not_ dismiss you, yet. Don't be impatient, boy. Wait a moment and I'll be more attentive. One can only do one thing at a time." He paused and inclined his head again. "You're the son of Rashid Lal, aren't you?" he asked sharply, giving Cemal a quick sweeping look.

"Yes, sir. How do you know my father?" he ventured nervously.

"Lal and I were in the same regiment for some time. He saved my sorry ass a couple times back during the Sphere Alliance days." He sounded just a bit nostalgic, looking up at the ceiling as if a funny memory was posted up there. He turned back, narrowing his eyes on Cemal. "Of course, I saved his too. He was always a smart guy, is his son one too?" he asked, daring him.

"I believe so, sir," replied Cemal boldly, receiving a chuckle from the Commander.

"Yep, I definitely see the canny resemblance now. He was always a smart-ass, like you. Used to get us in heaps of trouble. Don't you go thinking that I'm going to favor you just because your father was a great soldier. Don't think it, but I'm going to anyway," he said bluntly looking directly at Cemal now. In that moment, Cemal decided that he liked the Commander.

"If you say so, sir."

"I do say so. Now, we're going to get going. I'm assuming that you're on your way to the dining hall now. I want to show you something before you go. Or actually vice versa. I'm sure lunch can wait awhile." And before Cemal could question his response, the Commander stood, revealing his full height. The man was enormous, towering over six feet. Unruly brown hair and brandy-colored eyes that were kind were at odds with his giant-like size. He stepped around the desk and clapped Cemal on the shoulder. Cemal almost fell over from the impact, but managed to stay on his feet. 

The Commander led the way out of the building again and walked down the sidewalks with Cemal at his heels. They weren't on their way to the class buildings or the dormitories. They were headed towards the loading dock. What did the Commander want to show him in the dock? He already knew all the ships and transports that were registered there. All the stranger transports that had brought new students were gone by now. There was nothing new.

Nothing new that he knew of, anyway.

He strode behind the large man and looked out of the side space windows. They had entered the corridors that led to the docking area. There were air locks and tons of safety precautions so that if an emergency occurred the main part of the colony could be saved from the space's immense vacuum. There was nothing out in space, except for blackness and the range of eternal stars. The Commander stopped abruptly and Cemal almost crashed into him. He was standing before a bunch of space windows that looked over the B7 docking port. Cemal looked out there. There was an unregistered spacecraft parked there.

"Sir?"

"In due time, young Lal."

Cemal looked back out the window, three space-suited people climbed out of the exit of the spacecraft and jumped onto the guide rail, pulling themselves in. It was then when he realized that he was being assigned the prestigious duty of tour guide for the visitors and he allowed himself a quick burst of pride. The click of heels echoed quickly through the halls and Cemal turned to see that the Commander was off, striding towards the B7 airlock. Cemal hurried after him. By the time Cemal had caught up with the Commander, the three suited people had entered the airlock and were proceeding to enter the corridor. The Commander was there, greeting them.

"Hafiz, you old dog! I see you've finally brought Cal here. Good, good. Cal will make a great soldier! I'm glad that you've finally seen that," exclaimed the Commander jubilantly. One of the space-suited people clicked his helmet off and a medium-sized man's face could be seen. Dark eyes and dark hair of the Arabian coloring. A warm smile was curving his mouth.

"Me an old dog, Ackerley?! Then you've got to be an old bat!" The man swiftly unsuited himself and embraced the Commander.

"Well, I never said I wasn't," he said grinning. "So, you've brought young Azim Rehman along with you I see. He's the son of Murad Rehman, eh? He's to stay with young Cal?" he asked, glancing at the other two suited figures, one of them obligingly clicked his helmet off and the face of a large young man, of about the height of the Commander in his early or mid-twenties appeared. The other, smaller suited figure remained suited, tacitly refusing to take off his helmet no matter what the Commander hinted.

"Yes, yes. Ax, we have to talk. There's a serious matter at hand," said Hafiz, his expression sobering.

"All right, we can talk in my office. Cal, young man, you can take off your suit and make yourself at home. Young Lal can show you and Azim around. This is to be your new home," the Commander said briskly, leading Hafiz away. After the Commander disappeared from sight down the echoing corridor slowly, the boy finally clicked off his helmet and looked around. The boy had a strangely feminine look, with slanted, dark ultramarine blue eyes, a serious, but vulnerable looking mouth, and dark black hair that hung freely at his ears. His skin was tanned, showing the effects of the desert sun. The other man quickly unsuited himself and helped the boy do so.

"_Assalamu alaikum_," greeted Cemal formally, nodding to the manservant behind the newcomer and to the newcomer himself. "I'm Cemal Lal, second year cadet in this private space military academy. It's a pleasure to meet you, Cal," he said politely. The boy stared at Cemal for a moment, defying the rules of proper etiquette in immediate response, and a feeling of indefinable vulnerability, as if the core of his thoughts and emotions were exposed, overcame him. The boy's intense gaze was delving into Cemal's more gold than green eyes, into his very mind and soul.

"The name's _Calista_, Cadet Lal. Please address me in such a way. And the pleasure is all mine," replied a regal female voice from the mouth of the boy, a distasteful expression set on his face. Then, Cemal realized…

"You're a girl!"

"I'm so glad that you've noticed. I was wondering when you were going to get to it," she said sarcastically, rolling her deep sea-colored eyes.

"Cala, you shouldn't have done that. Your uncle will be displeased that you have told someone," said Azim, speaking for the first time and frowning disapprovingly. His voice was low, baritone pitched and smooth, reminiscent of the wind blowing through riverside reeds.

"Good, he _should_ be displeased. I can hardly believe that he didn't inform Colonel A. Stromston that I was a girl. I know that he's embarrassed, but there's no need to act irrational and not tell anyone about me. Like he was ashamed of me or something." There was a glimmer of hurt in those eyes, but it was gone in a flash and Cemal wondered if he had just imagined them. "Someone was bound to find out, anyway. It would have been impossible to keep it totally secret, you know. Eventually, they would find out," added the girl, a rebellious look taking on in her expression.

"What is going on?" demanded Cemal, becoming utterly confused.

"Oh, forget it. I strongly suggest that you just show us around, cadet. Just like your precious colonel ordered," snapped the girl. Cemal was taken aback, surprise melding with offense. 

He had never been so snubbed in his entire life! 

And by a girl younger than he was! 

He opened his mouth to retort rudely, but there was a look in the girl's blue eyes that dared him to do so and face the consequences. There was something so regal, dangerous, and so utterly dominating in those deep blue orbs that overpowered him and forced him to back down.

Also there was the fact that the large Azim was clenching his fist menacingly behind the girl that factored into Cemal's decision to steer clear of unwanted trouble. Clearing his throat, he gestured in front of himself, letting them proceed before him.

"Of course. This way, please."

As the click of the shoes on the metal floor echoed eerily through the corridors, silence ensued. He wouldn't initiate casual conversation with them, but he took notice that they were both wearing traditional Muslim attire of fitted tunics and baggy string trousers, known as _shalwar kameez_. Cemal, too, had worn this attire when he had arrived, before the academy had given him his uniform. They both seemed to be Arabian, though Calista did not have a traditional Muslim name as Azim did. How odd, he thought.

To fill the awkward silence, he explained the space colony's situation. "This base is strictly a military area. There are no civilians; even the teachers are some type of ranking officer. The majority of this place is the Academy, but there are plenty of soldiers and officers that run everything and keep it secret and secure." When he was rewarded with sulky silence, he ceased his chatter.

As they exited the metallic docking area and entered the more open campus, Cemal politely pointed out the dining hall, the barracks for junior and senior officers, and the dormitories for the students, etc. Azim, the big Arabian man, nodded politely in return to his commentary, but Calista remained silent, her face in a constant scowl. As they passed the classroom buildings, many students waved amiably to Cemal. They all glanced curiously at the two companions he led.

"Oi! Cemal! Over here!" called a jolly voice from behind. A slight red-haired cadet of about Cemal's age came running after them, waving for them to stop. They all paused and waited for the boy to catch up to him. In between gasping pants he continued, "Cemal, the Commander wants to see you and the new boy. Right now, so you'd better hurry. He's in his office."

Cemal nodded in reply. "Thanks, Ryan. I'll see you at dinner."

"Bye, then," said the boy cheerfully and he turned and hurried off again.

"So, Ackerley wants to talk? I suppose Uncle Hafiz has finally spilled the beans," said Calista almost bitterly as they started off towards the office buildings. Cemal didn't say anything. When they reached the office door, he politely held it open for Calista and Azim, then walked in himself. The Commander seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Cal, is it true? Are you really- a- a…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"If you're asking for my gender, I must ever so unfortunately answer that I am indeed a girl. Sorry, if I'm disappointing you," she said with a slightly sardonic lopsided smile.

"Well, Hafiz, the boy- er- girl admits it. I suppose you're right." He turned back to Calista. "I'm sorry, my dear. You'll have to return home."

That was not the answer Calista wanted to hear, apparently. "What! Why?! This is completely unjust! There is absolutely no cause for such an action!"

"Cal, this is a boy's military academy. Stressing the particular word boys, not girls. There is no place for women here."

"What does that have anything to do with it?!" she demanded.

"Well, it's just inappropriate for a weaker-"

"Weaker! I am _not_ weaker than any boy is! In fact I'm stronger than any boy here. Take this kid," she jabbed her thumb towards Cemal, "I could kick his a-carcass anytime, anywhere."

"Is that a challenge?" asked Cemal angrily and Calista whirled around to face him.

"It is if you want it to be," she sneered at him.

"Calm down, both of you," ordered a calm, commanding voice. "Cala, if Ax thinks that you should return home, you should." Calista whirled to face the voice.

"You _told _him to say that! I won't go home! If I'm just as good as any boy, then I should be allowed to stay," she exclaimed heatedly to her uncle. Cemal glanced at the Commander, who, surprisingly, was stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Actually, Hafiz, that might not be such a bad idea."

"What?" asked Hafiz, frowning.

"Facing young Lal, here, against Cal. If she beats the boy, she can stay, if she doesn't she returns with you. How's that?" He was still stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," said Hafiz, his frown deepening.

"Well, naturally, the girl should be allowed to prove herself. It's all in chivalry, Khan. Both you and I know that." He glanced from Cemal back to Calista. "Let her prove herself," he reiterated.

"This is unfair," stated Cemal suddenly. "I'm bigger and stronger than she is. I'm also older and more experienced. I'd win easily."

"Would you bet on that?" asked Calista icily.

"Since you're asking…" Cemal threw back tauntingly.

"Enough you two. Fine, Ackerley, we'll have it your way. Cala will prepare herself as will young Lal and we will meet at the dueling courts in precisely an hour," said Hafiz rather grimly and he ushered Cala and Azim out. The Commander turned to Cemal as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Lal, you know that if you lose this duel you'll be a walking disgrace," stated the Commander unnecessarily.

"Yes, sir. Which is exactly why I'm not going to lose it," replied Cemal confidently.

"Don't be pert and don't get cocky. You haven't won, yet. You're dismissed. Meet me at the dueling courts in an hour and don't be late," said the Commander sharply, though his mouth had curved into a slight smile. Cemal saluted cheerfully and hurried out to his dormitory.

~*~*~

An hour later, at the school's fencing courts…

Cemal hurried along the dirt path that led to the fencing courts. For some unknown reason they were located in the middle of a thick batch of young trees. The architect of the academy was obviously fond of shade while fencing. Cemal had had time to polish his scimitar and change to appropriate clothes in the hour's span of time. He wondered what Calista would be doing.

He reached the edge of the courts just in time. Calista, Azim, Hafiz, and the Commander were all already there. The courts were fit with a few spare spectator seats and they were waiting patiently on them. The courts were very similar to tennis courts, except that instead of the large net and large boxed white lines, there were smaller boxed outlines. These were called 'strips', where fencers or duelers fought in.

"There you are, young Lal. We had thought that you were chickening out," called Calista derisively. She had changed to loose black pants and a simple mandarin-collared white shirt. Tapping his trusty weapon on the black dirt, he wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand.

"Sorry I disappointed you. Shall we?" he asked ignoring her mocking tone, absently unclipping the sheathed blade from his left side.

"Right, to business, then. Colonel Stromston will state the rules," she said and beckoned the Commander forward. He quickly walked over to Cemal and brought him closer to the rest.

"I assume that you both know and obey the basic laws of chivalry. They will be in play in this duel. Follow them. There will be two rounds, a third if necessary. Both of you must agree on one particular weapon for the first match. Then the winner will choose the next weapon," said the Commander briskly.

"Well, young Lal, what would you like to fight with?" asked Calista, her eyes glittering in the synthetic sunlight.

"I had thought that the sword would be an appropriate weapon," he replied, showing off the curved blade in his hand. Calista leaned forward interestedly to get a better look at the shimmering length of metal.

"Ah, I see you have acquired an Arabian weapon. Quite a beauty I must exclaim." She let out something akin to a giggle and he smirked at the girlish sound, thinking that the upcoming battle would be no problem. Immediately her eyes sharpened as she saw him make the assumption that she knew he'd make. "The question is do you have any idea how to handle such a tool."

"Would you?" he asked, biting back an urge to snap at her.

In one rapid effortless motion, Calista had leapt forward and snatched his sword from the sheath at his waist. And before Cemal had the time to register his surprise, she'd twirled around and with a flick of her wrist, held the scimitar's sharp curved tip at his throat. After a moment's pause she drew back and held the flat of the blade in her palm. She inspected it closely, running the tip of her thumb over the smooth metal.

"Hmm. One inch width, quite old, possibly an heirloom of sorts. Quite interesting. It's definitely an Arabian blade, scimitar, and hilt design; I was right in thinking that you were Arabian. Different type of metal than most, though. I think it's a type of space-mined metal, probably an alloy of one. It's probably one hundred years old or so. Not any more than that. Remarkably supple, wonder if you can actually appreciate that fully," she remarked absently. She flipped the end of the curved sword around and handed it over to Cemal hilt first as was appropriate when relinquishing a weapon.

He accepted it cautiously, still not quite recovered from his surprise over her speed. "It's interesting that you know how to handle swords of this type. You're right in thinking that it's old." He raised an eyebrow querulously, wondering how she knew.

The hilt of the sword was etched with beautiful swirled patterns and designs that were his family's symbol. The crest that was handed down generation upon generation and so on, right on from Mohammed's blessing himself. He had known that Calista would recognize that, as would all faithful Muslims, but not the type of metal and the design. Only true master swordsmen studied all the types and styles of swords. She couldn't possibly be a master swordsman and he wasn't even close to being true master of the fencing arts. And he knew of only one master, his father.

"I have learned many things that aren't very appropriate for a proper female," she said almost sardonically. She walked back over to the spectator seats and picked up a large mahogany box from the ground resting on the ground beside the stands. Setting it on a chair, she gestured for him to approach her and he obliged.

She clicked open the box and in it lay three gleaming blades, side by side, in the inlaid black velvet of the box.

"That is a classic fencing foil. That is a classic dueling rapier. And that is an Arabian scimitar. It's of the same caliber as yours, the same type of blade design, and even I think the same type of metal," she said, pointing to each blade. "You can decide which one I'll use. It matters little to me. I have a feeling that you'll pick the scimitar, though."

All of the swords were sharp and sturdy by sight, though they were undecorated and plain. No unique hilt designs, showing family crests or age. Nothing. Either the girl had no taste for antique weaponry or she wanted to hide something about her ability. These were all serviceable weapons for a beginner or any fencer at all; many advanced swordsmen preferred a particular style, something to help his opponent recognize his skill. Calista seemed to be confident on her ability with all swords, so Cemal decided the latter on his mental query.

"You're right. I don't want to take an unfair advantage on you. That's what I was planning before, but I guess that won't work," he replied, grinning.

"All right." A flicker of a smile appeared on her face, but soon was gone again. In a flash, the sword was in her hand and she had taken a fighting stance. 

"Lal, get into position," ordered the Commander softly. Cemal's hazel eyes narrowed and he obediently stepped up into the white painted strip on the floor of the court, marking the boundaries of a duel. There was a frightening intensity in the quality of the Commander's voice as he continued, "This will be a free-fenced bout, but I hardly think that masks are necessary. It is _not_, and I emphasize _not_, a first blood match. I would to think that you both are experienced enough to fence without killing each other and I hope that this will be completely bloodless. Whoever yields first will lose the match.

"Ready, all? Begin!"

Immediately, Calista attacked. Cemal instinctively brought his sword up in a block. But before he could parry her offensive actions, she had stepped back and attacked again. Cemal barely kept up with her attacks, blocking when he could and dodging some. Her speed was amazing, showing extraordinarily as she darted lithely to and fro. Black hair flew through the air as she whirled around in a foreign type of motion. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was in the middle of battle, even when she was attacking him. Her aquamarine eyes flashing and her full, serious mouth opened slightly as she focused on the battle. Her face slightly flushed and an elated look in her eyes from the exhilaration that rushed through her as she cut through his defenses.

He had thoughtlessly and negligently studied her technique from both her lissome movements and motions when she had disarmed him. It was apparent to all and sundry that she was good. Very good. He had been pretty sure that he could match her. Of course, Cemal had not thought of her speed. She was so Allah-cursed fast! And although she used the familiar Arabian-desert style, like his, she was slightly spontaneous. Mixing, melding, and altering certain complex moves. How could she think of all that in a matter of milliseconds? 

After a few minutes of tiring combat, she had disarmed him, knocked him flat on the floor, and was avidly holding her sword point at his throat. He gulped and glanced at the Commander, who looked about ready to apathetically allow Calista to slit his throat. Hafiz, apparently noting the ugly glint in his old friend's eyes, called out to Calista.

"Cala, dear, it's very obvious that you've won this match. You should stop and let him yield." For a moment Calista glared at her uncle and then she glared at Cemal, as if the blame for everything wrong in the universe lay on those two. Then, she sighed and lowered her sword point.

"All right."

Cemal saw his opening and kicked a foot up in the air, knocking the sword from her grip and reach. He grinned and when he had flipped himself back on his feet, took a fighting stance.

"I hadn't yielded yet. You shouldn't lower your defenses until your opponent has yielded," he said almost maliciously. Her glare appeared again and worse than ever.

"You do not follow the rules of chivalry precisely. I was about to let you go without injury, but now I see that I cannot. I'll continue this fight hand to hand without weaponry, since you seem to insist," she said, her voice cold. She curved her arm over her head and her other arm, beckoning him forward in a kung fu Chinese combat position.

Cemal unconsciously gulped nervously. From her rigid and confident stance, it was quite obvious that she was also somewhat experienced in the martial arts. Something that he had not accounted for. He had hoped that if he had gotten her scimitar away from her she would be at a disadvantage. He knew what the consequences would be if he lost this battle. The future wasn't looking too cheery at the moment for him.

He knew some defense procedures for hand-to-hand combat, but they were only for self-defense combat. And all Muslims learned self-defense to protect themselves from renegades and raiders in the isolated desert. The desert wasn't exactly the safest place in the world.

From the look in Calista's deep, dark eyes, he knew that he wouldn't be getting any mercy. None, whatsoever. 

He was in major trouble.

After a split second's pause, she attacked full out. She did not even bother to bow or give any other type of formality. It was obvious to any of the spectators that the girl was rather upset. Make that very upset. Oh, no. He was definitely in major trouble.

Sweat started to sting the skin on his forehead as Calista repeatedly struck his weak defenses. Kick, kick, punch, punch. The offensives never seemed to stop. He was stumbling backwards, trying to avoid her breath-winding kicks. He could feel sharp pains jet through his forearms, protecting his face and chest. There were bruises already forming there. 

Suddenly, in an unexpected low kick from Calista he was knocked off his feet. He struggled to stand up once again and glanced up at his opponent. Calista was waiting for him and Cemal considered staying on the ground. But he could feel the Commander's stare on him. And in the corner of his eyes he noticed that there was another man who had joined Calista's uncle, Azim, and the Commander as spectators of the duel. Cemal had seen him around before, but had never spoken to him. He was a thin man with dark hair and dark eyes, with an arrogance about him that captured people's attention. He was one that wouldn't take no for an answer and-

There was an opening! Miraculously, an opening appeared. He forced his eyes away from the intriguing man to see the obvious opening that had appeared on Calista's almost flawless defense. Like lightning, he had jumped up and grasping her wrist latched onto it, yanked, and twisted. Victory shined like a lighthouse beam to a lone ship on a stormy day.

To his enormous shock and surprise, Calista waived to his pull and fell into his fold. Then, she slammed her elbow into his soft stomach, at the same time freeing her wrist and breaking his nose with her now free hand. Sticky red blood splattered over her white shirt, as she whirled away from a falling Cemal.

Just as he hit the ground, just before all went black, he saw her eyes. Those deep blue orbs, glowing, glittering in an overly pale face. They were not only angry, but to his surprise, they were sad. Almost disgusted. Full of pity. Pity… for him? Then he knew no more…

A horrible stench filling his blood stuffed, aching nose awoke him from total oblivion. He turned his head, attempting to avoid the choking scent, but it followed him. Finally, he pushed aside the hand in front of his face and sat up, blinking a few times to clear his vision. Taking a couple deep breaths to clear his airway helped, but it made him cough and his eyes watered. A strong hand patted him on the back to help his coughing cease, while another squeezed his shoulder. He looked up to see Calista's uncle and the Commander kneeling besides him. The mysterious man was gone. He was afraid to look into their eyes and see their true feelings through them.

He was afraid of what he would see in them.

A quick glance into the Commander's face confirmed Cemal's thoughts. There was disappointment lodged in them, though concern for Cemal dominated the kind brown eyes. Hafiz's eyes were sad and concerned too for Cemal. Brushing the back of his hand against his nostrils, he coughed a little more. With a streak of blood on the back of his hand and the salty taste of blood in his mouth, he knew that he was looking pretty messy.

"I'm all right. All except my pride," he said, struggling to stand.

"Well, son, be more careful what you do and say to people you don't know much about. I wanted to warn you…" said Hafiz, trailing off, his eyes shooting up to a figure standing about five feet away. Cemal followed his gaze, spotting Calista, glaring disdainfully at her uncle.

"It's his own fault for underestimating his opponent. You needn't have warned him at all. What was there to warn him about?"

"Cal, dear, as the rules for dueling state, you now choose the next match. The weapon, etceteras. I'm sure you know the details," said the Commander, rather humbly. Calista pried her eyes off of Hafiz and stared at the Commander for a moment.

"You are correct- sir. I do know the rules. I'll choose the weaponry and time later. Now, it's more important to see to Cemal." And for the first time since he had waken up, Calista looked directly at him. She seemed somewhat apologetic. "I guess I got a little carried away."

"Yep, guess you did," he replied, uncomfortably. He was unsure what to do. Girls were so confusing sometimes.

"Colonel, sir?" asked Calista attentively, switching her focus to the Commander.

"Yes?"

"May I speak to you, privately?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Calista walked over to the other side of the court, beckoning the Commander to follow. The Commander glanced over at Hafiz and Hafiz just shrugged.

"Master…" Hafiz gave the confused Cemal a benign smile.

"Khan, just Khan, boy."

"Er- yeah. Khan, what did you want to warn me about?" A small frown of worry creasing Cemal's forehead. Khan held out a large, white handkerchief to the boy, motioning for him to mop up the mess that was his nose. Cemal smiled weakly and took the handkerchief, dabbing his nose and wincing from the stabs of pain that shot through his nose.

"I forgot to mention to you that… well, Calista has always been a little apt with these sort of things. That's why she wanted to enroll in this military academy. I, myself, attended here years ago and she wanted to become a soldier, like I was during a few of those wars. I didn't have the chance to speak to you alone and thought that you might be offended if I told you that Calista was most likely better than you," he said, hesitantly.

"Oh." He paused before continuing. "Why did she all of a sudden become so harsh? I just took an opening that she offered," he asked, becoming bolder by the second as the pain began to wear away, since he didn't breath through his nose.

"Cala has always been very conscientious about chivalry and you should be too, boy. She could have killed you as the laws of chivalry states, but she allowed you to yield and you didn't respect that. You took it as a given that she wouldn't kill you and that's always an extreme insult. You underestimated your adversary," he said, his tone now clipped and very stiff. His face had become taut and Cemal knew that he had offended the man under some unknown circumstances.

"Well, Cemal, if I know Calista as well as I think I know her, she'll prolong the wait to the next battle, coming up with some stupid excuse or other. Anyway, my advice is to just return to your dormitory or visit the infirmary. Don't worry about leaving the battlefield. She won't start without you," continued Hafiz, glancing over to where Calista and the Commander were conferring, the Commander's head bent slightly to better hear Calista's soft voice. He patted Cemal on the shoulder, seeming to forget his offense at the boy.

"If you say so, sir." Cemal turned and began to walk away, but a strong browned hand caught him by the shoulder and refused to let go. Cemal's head whirled around, to stare into glittering dark eyes belonging to the amazingly strong hand.

"Aren't you going to fetch that sword of yours?" Hafiz asked, jabbing his thumb in the opposite direction, towards the tree line where the shimmering scimitar lay in the dirt.

"Oh. I forgot." He gulped nervously, seeing something in those eyes that he didn't want to see. Strength emanated from the older man, something that intimidated Cemal.

"Yes, you forgot," agreed Hafiz, releasing Cemal's shoulder. Cemal hurried over to the tree line and picked up the scimitar, quickly wiping it on his pants. Then, hailing Hafiz with a soldier's respectful salute he left the dreadfully bright fencing court at a fast trot.

* **Author's Notes** *
    
    hey there!

This is my new fic, about Cala's past. My editors thought it was "very cool" so I thought that I should post it up. Don't worry, no real spoilers here and I'll have finished my other story when I get to the good parts here. Hehe, onto the next chapter!

-w.r


	3. Friend or Foe?

Disclaimers: no, don't own, probably never will, BUT all that's here, so far is MINE, so yeah, enjoy!

Chapter 2

Friend or Foe?

"So, that girl really beat you up bad, didn't she?" asked a red-haired boy sorrowfully from the side of the infirmary bed.

"No! She didn't!" snapped Cemal, sitting up abruptly on the white linen bed. The roomful of uniformed boys snickered at his blatant denial.

"Oh, come on, Cemal! You can't admit it, 'cause you're embarrassed that we know, but that doesn't mean you have to-" The boy was interrupted by a chorus of shouts and guffaws.

"Yeah, Cemal! Don't lie to yourself."

"Just get over it."

"Forget about it."

The uproar of all the boys laughing and mocking him echoed slightly in the large room. Cemal had to shout to make himself heard.

"I'm not lying to myself! Can you all just stop! All of you! It's not like I was totally beaten by her! I have two more fights to go, and I have a good chance of winning them. So, just _stop_!"

"Hmm, right. Oh, and by the way everyone, the betting pool ends by the beginning of the next match so you should all put in your bets by then. The odds are definitely for the girl," called the redheaded boy jokingly to the rest of the room. The room exploded with laughter and a few boys actually got up and gave the boy money.

"Very funny, Ryan," said Cemal dryly.

"Well, if it's open, I'll place a bet on the girl. Who would bet on Lal? Even a girl could beat Lal," drawled a scoffing voice at the open doorway. Everyone's heads whirled around to stare at the owner of the voice. A boy with smooth, gelled blond hair and cold light brown eyes was leaning on the frame of the door. All the light expressions in the room immediately turned to ones of immense dislike, especially Ryan and Cemal's.

"Hey, Ryan. I thought that you only invited my _friends_ to come," said Cemal, though not looking at Ryan, his eyes locked on the boy.

"Of course I did. _He's_ not invited," replied Ryan, not looking at Cemal either, and his voice dripping with absolute contempt.

"Well, it's always nice to see my comrades in such good humor. Why Lal, aren't you enjoying all the attention from a girl? It's the only attention that you'll be getting from a female for a long while, unless by some miracle your dog turns up," taunted the boy. Immediately, the crowd of boys surged upwards, bristling, eager to start a fight with the lone boy.

A brief memory of pity in violet-blue eyes flashed through his mind and stopped him from cheering his friends on. "Don't, guys," Cemal commanded softly. All the boys turn to him in confusion.

"What do you mean, Cemal? This jerk-face is all alone and you don't want to pay him back? You've got to be kidding. Your honor's at stake!" said Ryan, stunned.

"I know, Ryan. And thanks guys. But, it's not right to ambush that idiot when he's all alone. If he continues, though, he'll have to confront me in dishonoring me, all right. Then, our duel will be refereed by the Commander, where he can't cheat like he usually does." Cemal's voice was of the utmost calm in the midst of the angry boys. He was remembering something… something someone had said about honor and chivalry.

"Now, who's dishonoring who?" A dark glint of anger had ignited in both the stranger boy's eyes and Cemal's more gold than green eyes. Ryan thoughtfully laid a restraining hand on Cemal's shoulder, preventing him from jumping up and attacking the boy, which was what happened to be on his mind. In Cemal's injured state, he wouldn't hurt the other boy, only himself.

The tension in the room was thick enough to dull a knife.

"Ahem," said a familiarly regal voice, breaking Cemal and the boy's glaring contest. Silently, Cemal prayed that it wasn't who he thought it was. If it was, it would just make matters worse. If it was indeed whom he thought it was and she didn't introduce herself right off, he had already told Ryan that the boy he had seen wasn't a boy and it would not help. It definitely would not help the situation. And although Ryan wouldn't reveal the person's identity to the idiot at the door, he would tell all his friends, it would get out, and everyone would incessantly tease him, more so than they already were. A finger tapping the shoulder of the boy at the doorway broke him away from continuing his banter.

"Excuse me. I really hope I'm not interrupting anything. The nurse told me to come right in," said Calista politely. The boy turned and stared disdainfully at Calista. Calista raised her eyebrows and formed unconscious hauteur. The roomful of boys got suddenly quiet. Cemal glanced around the room, lifting an eyebrow.

"Who are you?" asked the boy, flicking his gaze up and down Calista. Her brows lifted a fraction more and returned a quick size-up of the boy. After a moment of tense silence, Calista threw a glance at Cemal, who had his eyebrows lifted still.

"Cal. My name is Cal. Who are you?" she returned, though her voice was slightly lower pitched it remained regal, commanding. Both Ryan and Cemal frowned. Identical thoughts shot through their heads. Obviously, this girl was trying to mask her identity to the rest of the boys and they weren't quite sure why. But they definitely knew that they didn't want any help from this- this- _girl_. Ryan glanced at Cemal and saw a nod that consented to his next action.

"Yes, introductions would be appropriate wouldn't it, Cemal? This is Calista Khan, the girl that fought Cemal this morning," said Ryan, emphasizing the word girl. The boy at the doorway started and stared at Calista disbelievingly.

"You mean beat." Calista's eyes flashed and her expression hardened. Cemal thought he glimpsed a quick thread of hurt in those deep blue eyes, but they were hard as marbles when he looked again. In the corner of his eyesight he noticed the boy at the doorway give Calista an evaluating up-and-down gaze again, this time his eyes brightened interestedly. "And that name's not entirely correct. The name's Calista Abassi." The light, commanding female voice emphasized on the surname.

"I don't see the difference," Cemal quipped at her, anger and resentment identical to Ryan's boiling in his eyes.

"You don't need to. It doesn't concern you," she replied arrogantly. "And you still haven't answered my question. Who are you?" she asked the boy.

"This is Perry and you don't need to know him," Cemal cut in before the boy could answer for himself. 

"Trust me, you don't want to know him," added Ryan.

"I think I can judge that for myself, Cadet Lal. Same to you, Cadet O'Malley. And I'm sure that he can answer for himself," replied Calista haughtily.

"You are quite right, Ms. Abassi. I can introduce myself perfectly well. My full name is Peregrine W. Cromwell the Third. And it is a pleasure to meet you." He smoothly swept up her hand and kissed her fingers, drawing out the word 'pleasure'. Cemal could feel his hackles rise. Calista didn't seem shocked whatsoever. She merely raised an eyebrow and waited until he had stopped. He had, however, not released her hand. After a few unsuccessful tries to slip her hand out of his without being too obvious and Cemal's hackles rising higher, Calista seemed to give up and returned to the buzz of the conversation whirling about her.

"By any chance, would you be the son of Lord Cromwell the Second?" she asked politely, seeming to be more out of courtesy and small talk than curiosity. He wondered if she knew that Perry was indeed the son of the stuffy lord. The resemblance was very obvious. His son was just as aggravating and vain.

Somewhere in the midst of his friends he heard a muttered "No shit, Sherlock." which brought up a round of nervous laughter, but was ignored by both the girl and the intruder.

"Ah, I see that you have heard of my father. How very pleasing. And might you have a family crest that I have heard of?" he asked, prying and smug. He seemed to think that the girl had a relation to the inner circles of the British court and that she knew him because of his family's fame there. Cemal snorted, he knew better than that. Calista had an Arabian surname and he highly doubted that she was connected to the idiotic cliques of the Europe's high royal courts. 

But of course, there were those strikingly odd eyes. Those certainly weren't Arabian. His hazel eyes were quite different from most, but were also a hereditary trait that had been passed down from centuries upon centuries and were far from abnormal in the Muslim culture. Those that possessed the lighter, golden eyes than most were thought to be blessed by Allah and destined to be notable characters who would stand out in the society. And even though they weren't abnormal they weren't exactly common and his mother often crooned and bragged about her son with his pretty eyes. A smile twitched his mouth at the thought of his overprotective, sometimes silly, and overly lovely mother. She loved his light eyes just like he loved her fun-loving, twinkling, dark ones.

Ryan's hand that was resting on Cemal's shoulder suddenly tightened, bringing him back to reality. He flinched at the minute but startling pain and shrugged Ryan's hand off of him. Flicking his eyes back at Calista, his eyes widened.

Calista was smiling a secretive smile, as if sharing a private joke with someone. "I might have." The smile was annoying to all and everyone, but Cemal didn't want it to leave. "And it was very nice to meet you, Cadet Cromwell the Third. If you would kindly let go of my hand? I would very much like it back," she added, tugging her hand again, but Perry wouldn't oblige her request.

"But I like it very much where it is, pretty, little Calista." His tone was flirtatious as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

The crowd of adolescent boys rolled their eyes and two boys mocked Perry by imitating him in the most ridiculous of ways. One put on a falsetto voice, placing his hand in the other's hand. The other boy, taking the hint, played along and twirled a pretend mustache, air kissing up and down the other's arm. "Oh, stop, Perry! You're _embarrassing_ me!" said the boy with a falsetto voice, pulling back his hand and tap smacking the other on the cheek. Though the entire room burst out laughing, Calista, Ryan, and Cemal remained tense and alert. Perry seemed to be ignoring everyone, but Calista.

"I'm warning you now, Cromwell. If you do _not_ release my hand, you'll seriously regret it." Her voice was casual, but there was an undertone that Cemal had heard before. It was that tone that her voice had taken on when he had supposedly insulted her beloved chivalry. It was a dangerous undertone. A very dangerous undertone. 

"Eh, Ryan, a word of advice. Better duck and cover before the explosion," muttered Cemal, glancing back and forth between Perry and Calista. Perry's smooth face had taken on a stubborn expression.

"Aren't you enjoying my attention, sweetheart? There are too many women that love it. I can have any of them I want." In one quick, fluent motion, Calista twisted the hand that was grasping hers. The crack that this emitted echoed and before the room could gasp in horror, Calista had used the same hand to slap Perry across hard the face.

Perry cried out loudly, falling to the ground, and cradling his injured wrist in his chest. Everyone in the room unconsciously took a step back. Calista's swift reaction had startled all of the boys, making them think twice about the girl that had beaten the top of their second year class in a duel that morning. It didn't seem to be just a lucky streak for the girl or a bad luck streak for Cemal.

"Then, next time, get one of those women to woo. I'm obviously not one of them," she said coldly. Cemal saw those eyes of hers glitter perilously close to the edge of rage. He gulped and remembered the look on her face just before he had blacked out. All he had really seen were those eyes, burning into his soul. Now, he could see everything from third person's perspective. The spectator, not the fighter and not the challenger. It was strange and all the scarier. Before, he could just remember the quick bursts of pain that she had inflicted, now he could only see the blurs that were her fast attacks. 

"Cadet Lal, I was sent to deliver a message to you from Colonel Stromston. He asked you to report to his office ASAP. The Colonel needs to speak to you. As you know where the office is, I don't need to escort you. If you would like assistance I would suggest Cadet O'Malley help you," she said briskly. Then, she spun on her heel and left the room with long strides. Rushing past Calista, two nurses entered the room looking alarmed.

"The scream? Who screamed?" asked a flustered looking nurse. The boys pointed to Perry who was moaning and still cradling his wrist. The nurses clucked and led him away.

"This is going to hurt. I'm pretty sure you have a sprained wrist and maybe a dislocated bone. We'll give you some painkiller and some anesthetics, but that won't dull all the pain. You'll have to live with it for a couple of days. And we're going to have to pop that bone back in," said the other nurse, clucking too. The boys in the room immediately made noise of interest. The nurse glanced back and called behind her. "A few of your friends can come and comfort you. This is really going to hurt."

They all looked pleadingly at Cemal, who nodded and grinned. The malicious expressions on their faces did not seem one bit comforting. At least for Perry. They all wanted to see the pain that was going to be inflicted on him.

"Give our dear friend my regards," he said, waving them on. Fifteen boys rushed to the door, grappling to get to the door first. One, however, stayed behind with Cemal.

"Ryan, you can leave if you want to. I can walk to the Commander's office alone, if you're thinking that I can't."

"No, I know. The humiliation of that idiot can wait. I'll get him some other time. It's not really like us getting him, anyway. It was that girl." He shrugged and offered Cemal a hand. "Here, we'd better get going. The Commander's not going to be happy if we're late." Cemal looked at the outstretched hand and smiled.

"You're really a great friend, Ryan," he said, placing his hand in the proffered one. Ryan grinned slightly foolishly and pulled Cemal onto his feet.

"Yeah, well you are too."

~*~*~

Calista was waiting for them in front of the office. They didn't notice her right away. Though they weren't preoccupied with anything, just talking. Ryan did not even need to support Cemal on the way there, Cemal hadn't obtained any leg injuries in his duel. However, Ryan who viewed her first, had to nudge Cemal in his bruised ribs to point out Calista to him.

"Ouch! Don't do that!"

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. I just wanted to let you know that _she's_ here."

"Who?

"_She_, as in-" he tapped his nose. Cemal looked up to see Calista leaning on the door jamb with one leg bent on the dark wood frame, hands clasped behind her back. She seemed bored, whistling and rapping her knuckles against the wood behind her.

"What took you two so long? Please don't tell me that you were watching that boy scream in agony, just for fun," she said, rolling her gaze over to them. She knocked the back of her head against the door and pushed off of it before, it jerked open. She didn't even bother to wait for their reply before striding inside. Both Cemal and Ryan rolled their eyes.

"Please don't tell me that you were watching that boy scream in agony, just for fun," mimicked Ryan, wrinkling his nose in disgust and shaking his head.. "Like we would ever want to do something like that. At least not when _she_ took him down. If we did it, though-"

"Are you two coming or not?!" They jumped. Calista had stuck her head back through the doorway with a frown creasing her forehead.

"We're coming, we're coming. I still don't see the stampede," muttered Cemal. Calista snorted and pulled her head back into the office.

"We'd better get going, before she makes a stampede," advised Ryan. Cemal grinned in reply and let Ryan lead the way in. When they had finally entered, Calista, Khan, and the Commander were already seated and were all apparently waiting for Cemal to enter.

"I'm so glad that you've finally decided to grace us with your presence," said Calista sarcastically. Her uncle laid a restraining hand on her shoulder and she quieted. Cemal lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. After Ryan had deposited his injured companion safely on a chair he made to leave the office, quickly and quietly.

"Cadet O'Malley, did I give you permission to leave?" demanded the Commander calmly, stopping Ryan in his tracks. He slowly turned to face his commanding officer and gulped. It was apparent that the Commander was intimidating to everyone, not only Cemal. After he had made a quick salute he glanced at Cemal, who nodded in reassurance.

"Er- well, no, sir. I was just going to wait outside for Senator Cadet Lal to finish his business here. This is none of my business, sir, and I did not want to intrude." The Commander smiled, pleased at his reply.

"Yes, that was correct, Cadet O'Malley. Though not quite legitimate, it was very discreet. You'll make a fine officer, O'Malley." Ryan beamed at the unexpected compliment. "You may stay if you like, cadet. This business is not exactly confidential, the entire academy will know about it soon enough. You might as well hear it."

"Yes, sir!"

"All right, now on to business. This duel. Cal has won the first round. She has informed me that the second match will be held one month from today. As to give you time to recover and train for it. She thinks that apparently you were at a disadvantage, having no time to train beforehand. So, she wants you to come prepared. She will inform both of us of the weapon precisely two weeks from now," stated the Commander earnestly. He glanced around at the recipients of his explanation. 

Cemal followed his gaze. Calista stood stiffly, her uncle restraining her with a mere hand. Ryan stood pleasantly at Cemal's side, listening only. Cemal noted in the corner of his consciousness that Azim, the man whom followed Cala around like a guard dog, was not present. He would ponder the reason for that sometime, but meanwhile he returned his attention back to the Commander. The man was staring pensively at him. Cemal tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in query. The Commander just nodded in reply.

"Cadet O'Malley, I sincerely hope that the students in this Academy do not gossip, but I fully expect the word of this particular match to get around. I have been informed that this will be a speculated duel, the whole school invited to watch. Further details of this will be announced in the near future. Do you understand my meaning, cadet?" The Commander's brown eyes glittered, staring into gray-blue hued eyes of Ryan. Ryan saluted, standing taller with pride.

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Very well, then. Do be discreet, though. Onto other matters. I will inform the rest of the Academy myself of this next decision. I have decided to allow young Cal to stay in the student dormitories. She will be allowed to attend classes along with the other first year cadets, until the next match."

"What?! But sir-" protested both Cemal and Ryan simultaneously. They glanced at Calista, who was smiling smugly, arms crossed over her chest and Khan, whose neutral expression did not conceal his true feelings that reflected in his eyes. Disapproval gleamed in his dark liquid brown eyes. Obviously, Khan did not feel as his niece felt about the Commander's decision.

"It will only be a temporary arrangement. Until, Cal has proved herself, that is. I assume that I needn't state the obvious if indeed she does prove herself in your duel," said the Commander calmly, raising a bushy eyebrow. Ryan was shocked speechless, but Cemal found his voice in time to protest with a sufficient justification.

"But sir, my whole point is that she has _not _proved herself."

"Yet," corrected Calista even more smugly. Cemal fought the urge to slap the smug smirk off her face.

"Still, sir. You act as if you expect Ms. Abassi to actually win this duel. Do you have no faith in Cadet Lal?" asked Ryan pointedly, recovering from his initial shock. Cemal almost flinched at Ryan's outright dare to the Commander. He didn't expect a welcome reply.

"After this first round, I'm not so sure anymore, Cadet O'Malley. I must say that I'm disappointed in Cadet Lal. I expected more, but I cannot undo the past," retorted the Commander bluntly. Cemal flushed and lowered his head in shame.

"But if that's so, do you have to show the world that you have no faith whatsoever? I highly doubt that that's proper," said Ryan in Cemal's immediate defense again, as Cemal seemed to have none.

"I agree with you there, Cadet O'Malley. But as I _am_ the commander in chief here and appointed administrator of this academy, I may do whatever I please. I have been advised by someone whom I trust utmost that I should allow this 'bending of the rules'. And although Hafiz objects-"

"I don't object, Ackerley. I merely doubt if it's the right decision for Cala. She jumps into these things too quickly, without much thought and she doesn't realize what a big responsibility this really is," interrupted Khan, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, Uncle Hafiz. I do not. I thought about this long and hard. For several years. I resent the fact that you don't respect my judgment or the Colonel's. I can understand your complete disregard of my judgment, as I'm young and 'less experienced', but not the disregard the Colonel's. You have always said that you respect Colonel Stromston's judgment more than anyone else's opinion, with exceptions for two others. How can you possibly turn hypocrite and blatantly contradict yourself?" argued Calista, pointedly.

"It's not that, Cala. But, your Aunt Sharma-"

"Oh, Aunt Sharma, is it now? Aunt Sharma gave her blessings to me before we left. Unlike you, she only wishes for my happiness in my future. She doesn't want to force me into the family business, where I don't want to be. And she's the real owner, Uncle Hafiz. You think I don't know that? She only lets you control the business because you're better at it. I don't have to run it if I don't want to," snapped Calista thoughtlessly, jerking out of her uncle's grip, a warrior's ferocity on her face. She was about to fight tooth and nail to stay in the Academy and Khan seemed to know it. She would pull out all the stunts and hold nothing back if she wanted something and intended to get it.

He sighed resignedly and threw up his hands in defeat. "All right, all right. But you remember our agreement. You swore on your honor that you wouldn't break it."

"I know, I know. I promised. And I promise that I won't forget," said Calista, as if she'd been repeating herself over and over again, though an excited glint lit her eyes. Cemal frowned thoughtfully, while Ryan kept his silence, making mental notes to inform the 'gossip column'.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Cadet Lal?"

"Where will Ms. Calista sleep, if she's to stay?" asked Cemal, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"Ah, quick thinking, cadet. But not quick enough. Cal has already brought this matter up and it's already been resolved. She shall stay in the student dormitories like you other cadets, but she won't share a room with any other student. She'll stay on the first year floor with the other first years. Are there any objections? They won't matter anyway," the Commander's face was sharp, daring anyone to give protest. Cemal could feel Ryan cringe both at the Commander's harsh words and even harsher expression.

"No, sir."

"Good. Then, let's get Cal settled." The Commander made to stand, but then hesitated and remained seated. "Er- Lal, a private word with you." The statement was more of a question. His tone bemused Cemal. Why would the Commander merely _ask_ something of him when he only needed to order him to do so?

"Yes, sir. What about Ms. Calista and K- Master Khan?"

"O'Malley, you do the honors of leading Cal and Khan to the dorms. We'll catch up to you later." Ryan nodded in acknowledgment, gave Cemal one last reassuring glance, and led the way from the room. Khan followed behind him, but Calista hesitated for a moment, staring at the Commander. She flicked her gaze over to Cemal and then turned and left. Cemal furrowed his brow in concern and looked at the Commander. He stood slowly and walked to the door, clicking it deliberately shut. He returned to his chair and sat, sighing.

Cemal waited patiently for the Commander to begin. "Cemal," he said slowly. And Cemal knew that the news was going to be bad, because the Commander never used first name basis unless it was something important or someone he knew too well. Cemal opted for the former. "Cemal, there's something that Cal discussed with me this morning. Something that she said was important I discuss with you immediately. I don't mean any offense and neither does she." Cemal snorted at this and the Commander frowned.

"Cal doesn't mean to insult you, Lal. You'll just have to take my word for it. It's just that… it's, well, complicated. Maybe, you'll understand one day, when you get older. And in any case, Cal wanted me to ask you… to offer you…" The Commander was very hesitant about stating the actual subject to Cemal.

"What did she want you to offer me, sir?" prompted Cemal.

"She wanted me to offer you a chance to… a chance to… bow out. To yield the duel and hand it over to an… an older cadet."

"_What!_" He jumped up, out of his chair and leaned closer to the Commander, looking to see whether he was joking with him. The Commander's face was somber and serious. Somehow, Cemal knew that this was a genuine offer of withdrawal for his part, not a joke or a hoax to embarrass him.

"Cemal, she said that she didn't want to hurt anyone and that, well, you would be hurt if you continued. She means serious business and when she means it…" he trailed off, waved his hands in the air a bit to finish the sentence for him and folded his hands on the desk. Cemal was almost speechless. 

Almost.

"Sir, you… you expect me to accept this offer, don't you?"

"It's your decision, Cemal. I, personally, don't want to see you hurt. I know Cal's abilities all too well, I just thought before that… well, maybe I might have been wrong." When he didn't continue or elaborate Cemal's interest and curiosity was piqued, even though he was still somewhat in a state of shock.

"Sir?"

"Well, young Lal, if you must know…" said the Commander resignedly. "You're just too much like your father, you know. A regular smart-ass family," he added under his breath.

"Thank you, sir. I'll take that as a compliment," Cemal replied smugly. The Commander responded with a few well-chosen oaths at the audacity and brass of the younger generation, before continuing.

"I've gotten into the habit of watching over some of my more… likable comrades. At any rate, after they take their leave of me, I keep tabs on them and their families, if they have any. I always accept their spawn into the academy if they apply, etceteras, etceteras. For those that stay in the service, I… make certain things, within my power, easier for them."

"You mean, you sort of smooth the rocky path of promotion for them," said Cemal. The Commander nodded with an approving glint in his eye.

"Quick, very quick, young Lal. Yes, you might say I smoothed that particular path for them. Anyway, as I said, I keep tabs on those that leave and Hafiz was one of my Academy chums. When I found out that his wife's brother's child was sent to them, I immediately responded with an invitation to join the academy when the kid was old enough. Hafiz refused, point blank. I was shocked, naturally." He noticed the surprise on Cemal's face and added dryly, "Hafiz was a terrific colonel, long before me, though we were the same age. A ton of medals and recognition from the higher ups. At least up until he retired; his wife had inherited the family company along with the kid and she wanted Hafiz back home to manage it. Ah, well, when he left he made a good note for me and persuaded me to take his place as head of the Academy." He grinned for a second.

"So… get on with the explanation," said Cemal, too interested for formalities. When the Commander glared at him and he added a hurried, "sir." The Commander nodded and continued.

"Of course, I was confused as to why Hafiz wouldn't want a kid of his to enter the Academy, like we did. I just had to know why. So, I got some contacts on Earth to sort of check out the situation, a little digging around. I eventually got some info on the kid. Referred to as Cal or Cala, parents died in some bombing, and some more interesting junk. But I still didn't know why Hafiz wouldn't send the kid to the Academy. So, I got the contacts to actually tap into the security cameras of Hafiz's home and take some pictures of him and the kid." Cemal raised an eyebrow and the Commander shrugged.

"Hafiz's used to all that happening by now. The only access we actually got was the outside cameras, nothing else. All the other ones were heavily encoded and could only be accessed by Hafiz or his personal family," he said, wryly. Cemal couldn't resist a small smirk.

"Anyway, we got some shots of Cal and her outdoor training exercises. What a kid! She was so impressive, that it didn't occur to me that she could possibly be a girl."

"Oh. Khan didn't inform you of her gender, so you assumed she was a boy. She didn't wear any formal Muslim attire, like is appropriate for a female in our culture, when she was outside," added Cemal, half to himself, remembering the clothes that she had worn when he had met her. No veil, no head shawl, nothing that would shield her face from men. She hadn't worn anything that was proper for Muslim women. It was almost shameful, but no one seemed to notice or care. It was weird. The Commander nodded in confirmation.

"If any at all. Khan has just informed me that Cal has been going through that tomboy stage that some girls go through. He said that he thought that she would grow out of it by now, which is why he let her learn all that martial arts junk and fencing that she learned. She's more or less equal to a cadet in third year, here at the Academy. I was planning to move Cal up when she got here, if she did as well as I thought she would. Of course, I probably won't be doing that now. Since, I found out… Well, I guess his wife persuaded Hafiz to allow Cal to attend the Academy. He said that he hoped that she wouldn't want to, apparently, however, she was ecstatic at the idea."

"So… what you're saying is that I've been fighting a trained and experienced soldier, basically," said Cemal slowly, almost disbelievingly.

"Sorry, Cemal. I didn't realize that she was so… I didn't want to believe… after I found out that…"

"It's okay, sir." He didn't seem to be able to say anything else; he was so shocked.

"So, you'll accept the invitation to yield?" asked the Commander, deliberately keeping his face neutral. Cemal said nothing for a moment, his face clouded with indecision.

"No. Frankly, I don't care if she could match up equally to a third year. I accepted the challenge and that's that. I won't back down. And there's no way that you or anyone else can make me back down." The Commander beamed proudly at him, but found that Cemal wasn't paying any attention to him. His determined eyes were staring out of the tinted windows onto the side pavement, where there stood a girl with intense blue eyes staring back at him.

* **Author's Notes** *
    
    well, hello again! this is so far, my last chapter that I have ready to be published, so ur gonna hafta wait for the next one and until my writer's block disappears. Anyways, I hope u've enjoyed this chapter, which is the explanation of a lot of things about my favorite lil character. I'll get more into exactly everything when I finish my other main GW fic, but for now, I'll leave u to wonder y exactly a girl wants to go to an all boy's military academy. Hehehe, I jst love making u suffer. J/k. J
    

-w.r


	4. Report

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Gundam Wing, if I did, I would probably take over the world, but yeah, that's just me.

Warning: some minor cussing here… consider urself warned

Chapter 3

Report

It was dark; the central power having been shut off hours ago. The only light came from the many computer screens running numbers in front of the man sitting at a desk. The rhythmic clicking of the keys by the man, whose figure was outlined only by the illumination of screens in front of him, paused as the other man approached.

"Well, it took you long enough to get here, Colonel," drawled the collectedly elegant voice from the man ahead of him. Ax cleared his throat nervously.

"I was held up by-"

"Do you think I want to hear your pitiful excuses? Report."

"Yes, of course. I've had the girl settled in already. She's gotten a room of her own in of the dormitories and Khan's on his way back to Earth."

"So, he won't be staying here to entertain us, then?"

"Er, no. He said that he had some urgent business back at-"

"Right. The bastard's still scared of me. That's nice to see." Ax almost flinched at the smug sound of his voice. "But back to the girl."

"You see, sir, I mean, er-"

"What? What should I see?"

"Khan just informed me of something before he left. Not only did I not know that Cal wasn't a boy, but I also didn't know that, well, the girl was a part of a certain prominent family in which they practiced-"

"You're not serious, I hope."

"Unfortunately, I am."

"Did the girl make some type of commitment to it? Does she even know about it?" The man's voice held something akin to concern, though Ax knew better than to be certain of it. If there were something that this man was worried about, it was himself.

"Yes and yes, I think she does."

"Hmm. How unfortunate."

"Yes, but also Khan also requested that she not be qualified to be specially chosen by you, because of this."

"Oh, you mean, he didn't want her to have to chicken out like he did?"

"Your answer?"

"When hell freezes over and the devil sings Hallelujah. She's probably the most qualified of the tiresome bunch here. I don't give a rat's ass what Khan wants. He has no say in the matter. It will be her choice when the time comes, as it was his choice to rejected my offer."

"But she-"

The man's voice sharpened immediately with the hint of a threat. "You have no say in the matter either, 'Commander'. Operation Meteor is soon to begin and all the others have been chosen. I need a prodigy and she is my choice whether you two like it or not." Ax dug his heels in, not willing to give up just yet.

"Then, we will request that you wait before you start."

"Wait? Why?" He could almost see the man's eyebrows arch into its patented recherché curve. "It begins in less than three years. She will need to train intensively and she will need all the time there is."

"One semester is not very long and I do have some say in this. You need my cooperation to find recruits and I will protect this girl whether you like it or not." Ax would've sworn that the man had chuckled in what seemed to be amusement, but it also might have been a cough.

"So I see you are still sore about me not choosing you, Ax. You weren't fit for it then and you aren't in the position to tell me what to do now. You need our help much more than we'll ever need yours. But I'll let you have this. I understand she will need time, so I will give it to her and to you. I also need to test her further. Her endurance, her stamina, her adaptability, all the things that a Gundam pilot will need. I'd especially like to see how she deals with the rest of the boys." The man paused as if to stop and think about what he was about to do. "I have no doubt that she will exceed even my standards."

"As do I." Ax turned to leave, hesitating for only a moment. "Thank you."

After the echoes of footsteps faded from the empty corridor, the clicking of the typing of keys continued in the dark room as if they had never stopped.

* **Author's Notes** *
    
    hey, this is a short interlude to my next chapter, sorta to give u an idea what's going on behind the scenes. I like it. I also changed the name of this b/c I thought the other one was way too long. 'adustum' by the way, means to start a fire, ignite a fire, etc. if u've ever seen Endless Waltz or know the Preventor's policy on 'putting out fires', then I'm sure u get what I'm hinting at. ^_^
    -w.r


End file.
